Fallout: Europe
by WordSmith1916
Summary: In the nuclear ruin of Europe, a pair of brothers wage a two-man war on all those who prey on the weak. But evil flourishes in a world without order, and the irradiated forests hold dark secrets from before the War. All OC's.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

The fire burned brightly in the cold night. The snow covering the ground lent an eerie glow to the camp-ground, while the band of raiders huddled around for warmth. David the Bile-Drinker sat by himself, sharpening his machete. His motley crew weren't the smartest, or the best fighters. But they were well and truly vicious. David's nickname was based on an untrue rumour, but he embraced it to heighten his reputation. On the other hand, Cyclops actually did cut out and eat the eyes of his victims, and those who didn't get their skulls crushed by Hammer found themselves being brutally raped and strangled by him. The other 10 members of the crew were just as bad if not worse. David had no idea what part of the former European Commonwealth he and his gang had been terrorizing for the past month, but he also didn't care. As long as the Berserkers, and the Radboars, and the Muskers stayed away from them, they could keep raiding and murdering here for as long as they pleased. All of the inhabitants of this area were peaceful farmers, and easy targets.

Suddenly there was a whooshing noise to David's right and Rudolf stood up clutching his neck. It took a moment for the rest of them to notice the arrow sticking out from between his fingers before he fell to the ground. A moment's stunned silence followed before something dropped into the middle of the camp. It looked like a rusted tin can. Two seconds later the Tin Grenade exploded violently and threw the remaining crew members to the ground, some of them more intact than others. Chaos ensued, with living and dying men screaming and scrambling for their weapons. More arrows shot out of the darkness hitting the raiders in their necks, chests, and thighs. David took one in the shoulder and dropped his machete. Everyone around him was dead or bleeding out. The snow around the camp was stained dark crimson. Two arrows shot out and lodged through the backs of his knees. He screamed and fell to the ground, tears streaming from his eyes. Looking up, he saw a dark figure standing over him. The figure had the body of a tall man, metal armour glinting in the firelight. But his head was straight out of a nightmare, a mutated bear head that should have been on a Berserker. It raised the polished, razor-sharp fire axe in its hands and uttered a single sentence.

"Say goodnight, scumbag".


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Tyler sat sharpening his axe while Jack picked through the wreckage of the camp. He managed to pull a few of his arrows, intact, out of the corpses of the raiders they'd just killed. Despite the damage done by Tyler's Tin Grenade, most of the raider's weapons were still in serviceable condition, and further investigation revealed a large amount of caps and medical supplies. They would have to start moving again quickly though. It would take too much time and effort to burn the bodies, and the smell of rotting flesh would soon attract the vicious creatures in these woods.

Despite being brothers, Tyler and Jack were like chalk and cheese. Tyler was two years older, had black hair and a thick beard. He was tall and burly, possessing a physique that spoke of long hours training every muscle in his body. He had personalised his suit of metal armour with the skin of a berserker he had killed, using the head as a fearsome and terrifying hood. The arms of the beast were attached to his own, while the rest of the skin formed a cloak. His favourite weapon was his trusty fire axe, but he also carried a smaller hatchet. On top of that, he was an explosives expert, and never went anywhere without a few homemade bombs. Jack was the younger brother. His hair was a dirty blonde and he had a neatly trimmed goatee. He was dressed in leather armour with a leather hood, and his archery glove rarely left his hand. The bow on his back was homemade, as were the arrows he shot with it. Wood, scrap metal, and raven feathers were all he needed to make his arrows. Sometimes, if they managed to kill a Musker, he would dip his arrows in its venom sack to give them and added kick. On his hip was his trusty Hunting Revolver, and he'd been known to slit men's throats with the Straight Razor he used to shave.

They hadn't always wondered the forests and ruined cities of Europe looking for Raiders to kill. Years ago, they had lived on an island off the coast of the mainland that had been spared the worst of the fallout. However, when the boys were young teenagers, their village was attacked by pirates from the mainland who butchered everybody they could find. Tyler, Jack, and a few others escaped, but the brothers stayed hidden in the nearby forest and had to watch as their fathers was beheaded and their mother gang-raped and drowned. They'd followed the raider band across the sea to the mainland and struck when the time was right, killing them to the last man. It hadn't eased the pain though, and from that moment on the brothers had made it their life's mission to kill every raider and pirate and murderer they could lay their hands on, and for years that's exactly what they had done.

The sun was just about to rise when they got back to the underground bunker they had been using as a base. It had a water purification system, a kitchen, an armoury, a storage area, and barracks for sleeping in. The best bit was the abundance of Radgarlic growing in the area around the entrance hatch. Descended from Wild Garlic, Radgarlic had the interesting property of flushing radiation out of people's system. On the barracks wall was a massive map of Europe, with the bunkers location marked. According to the map, they were only a few miles outside what used to be the city of Paris. Tyler and Jack had avoided that direction so far, cities in the post-war world were usually just breeding grounds for raiders and feral ghouls. On the other hand, most of the raider groups around here were dead now, so it was probably time to branch into new territory. And, if there was a slight chance of a civilised settlement they could trade with, it was worth a shot.

Jack walked into the armoury, where Tyler was making more Tin Grenades, as well as MF Grenades from the Microfusion Cells they'd gotten from the Raider camp. He sat down and began to shape scrap metal into arrowheads.

"What do you think the chances of a settlement are?" asked Tyler.

"Humans are stubborn as fuck, Tyler. We're living proof. I'd say there's a good chance that we'll find some people clinging to life on whatever radioactive patch of rubble they've chosen to call their own".

"Always great to see you in a good mood bro".

Tyler chuckled and went back to his explosives. Soon, Jack had twenty arrowheads lined up on the workbench, which he proceeded to attach to the fletched shafts he had ready. He then took out his hunting revolver and started cleaning it. Tyler, too, had begun cleaning his weapons. Despite the affirmation that civilisation, or whatever passed for it these days, waited for them in the ruins of the city, they wanted to be prepared. The nuclear world was far too full of surprises to leave anything to chance.


End file.
